


Listen

by eurydice72



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 00:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurydice72/pseuds/eurydice72
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being the cause of so much death, Uther has ghosts...and only one person can quiet them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Listen

They began as whispers. Soft, sibilance in the darkest hours, tormenting Uther from full rest. They nibbled at the edges of his sanity, but the core remained intact, protected by the fact that he couldn’t see their haunting visages. When day came, and he gazed at his crumbling kingdom through the barred windows, the sunshine burned away the voices until he could convince himself they’d never existed at all.

At least, until midnight crept out of the shadows to cocoon him away from the rest of the world again.

Arthur’s victory should have banished them, but if anything, they grew stronger. They found form at the corners of his eyes, distracting him at the most inopportune times. Arthur would be discussing council business, Uther would see a flash of velvet off to the side, and everything Arthur was attempting to convey would be lost as Uther tried to chase them down. If he could only catch them, he was certain he could rid himself of them forever.

But he never did.

The voices only fell silent once. The morning the maidservant found him in the stables.

He was whispering to the stag Morgana had favored when she appeared next to him. He’d thought the horse should be able to hear Morgana, too, but nothing he could say to the beast could coax the response he wanted.

“Sire…” The maid curled her small hand gently over his forearm, easing him away. “Prince Arthur is looking for you.”

His ready retort of how dare she touch him died on his tongue. The stable was silent. Nothing fluttered at the edges of his vision. Only her solemn brown eyes gazed up at him, waiting for him to respond.

“Do you hear that?” he said.

She glanced around, a small line appearing between her brows. “No…”

His relieved smile erupted, free and jubilant. “Exactly.” He straightened, and her hand fell away. “Arthur needs me, you say. Well. Take me to him.”

She led him back to Arthur’s ready room, dropping a short curtsey before rushing away. The second the door closed behind him, however, the mocking whispers returned.

He barely heard a word Arthur said. Morgana’s “Look at him. He thinks he’s king already,” and Igraine’s “Poor Arthur, if he only knew half the lies you’ve told him,” taunted him at every pause. 

“Father. What are you doing?”

Uther blinked. He hovered on the room’s threshold. He had no recollection of opening the door. “That maid.”

A pause. “You mean Guinevere?”

Guinevere. She’d been Morgana’s. He remembered that now. Was she a witch, too? Was that why the demons were held at bay in her presence? Perhaps. He couldn’t be sure. He only knew… “I’d like her to replace my manservant.”

“What?” Arthur’s voice was shocked. “Father, I don’t think—”

Uther whipped his head around, glaring at his son. “That wasn’t a request, Arthur.”

“Gwen has other duties.”

“She’s a servant, is she not?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“And last I checked, I was still king.”

A muscle twitched in Arthur’s jaw. “Yes, sire.”

Red danced off to Uther’s right, but he ignored it, focusing on the reprieve he’d managed to find. “Then you’ll do as I order. As soon as possible.”

Arthur bowed his head. “I’ll take care of it myself.”

\-----

“You’re joking.”

Arthur sighed. “I wish I was. But he was adamant about it, Gwen. He wouldn’t even listen to me.” He turned toward the window, gazing down at the courtyard. “I wish you’d seen him. For a bit there, he seemed like his old self.”

“You mean, bossy and arrogant?” she almost said, except she couldn’t because the sadness in Arthur’s profile broke her heart. The weeks since deposing Morgana had taken their toll, but no trial weighed more heavily on Arthur’s shoulders than his father’s deteriorating mental state. Instead, she stepped closer, hoping he would see reason. “Arthur, I found him in the stable. Begging Morgana’s horse to talk to him.”

He slumped. “What am I supposed to do? If I refuse, it might make matters worse.”

“He doesn’t even like me.”

“He left with you without arguing, though. When Merlin tried to get him out of the dungeons the other day, he nearly ran Merlin through with his sword.” He glanced back, and the bleakness of his shadowed eyes begged her to agree. “I know it’s not ideal. And if you say no, I’ll make whatever excuse I must to him. But…he’s asked for nothing else since we rescued Camelot, Gwen. Nothing. I have to believe this is important to him.”

She had no idea why. He’d been ready to have her killed because of her feelings for Arthur, not to mention what had happened with Tom. But she did understand she couldn’t look Arthur in the eye and tell him she wouldn’t at least try. He gave up far more than she did every single day in his battle to keep Camelot together. Tending to his father was the least she could do, especially if it allayed his fears even a little bit.

“When do I start?”

\-----

The first day Guinevere came to him, Uther couldn’t stop smiling. He knew he must look a fool, but the blessed quiet was so thorough, he couldn’t contain his happiness. He insisted they take a walk down to the open market, something he hadn’t done in years, simply to prove to himself that he’d made the right choice, that this witch of Morgana’s was powerful enough to keep his demons at bay even amongst so many of his people. He didn’t even mind that she found some way to alert Arthur to their plans and gain them an entourage of knights for protection.

She was always formally polite, eternally wary. When she left him for the night, he stood at his window to watch her leave, gritting his teeth against the icy hands Morgana and Igraine now laid upon him in Guinevere’s absence. She stopped and chatted with the guards, smiling and laughing in ways she never did with him.

“Because she thinks you’re a monster,” Igraine whispered. “She only serves you out of fear.”

They were right. He tried to forget that in the weeks that followed, but eventually, the truth became too heavy to bear.

“Sire, you must eat.”

He’d refused breakfast for the third day in a row. Guinevere’s voice was oddly soothing, and he rolled away from the temptation to give in to its solace.

“Are you ill? Do I need to fetch Gaius?”

If they only knew what plagued him when she wasn’t around. “Gaius can do nothing.”

“So something is wrong.”

“Something is always wrong.”

He thought that would be it. The breakfast tray barely made a sound as she carried it off, but instead of going to the door, she rested it on the table and returned to face him. 

“You are not the only one who grieves for Morgana.” Though she clasped her work-worn hands in front of her, the twisting of her fingers betrayed her emotions. “She was my best friend. I loved her like a sister, so when she turned her back on us…” Her lashes ducked, but not before he caught the shine in her eyes. “I understand how much it hurts. More than you can ever know.”

Words failed him. When the silence between them stretched into minutes, Guinevere curtseyed, then turned away. She made it all the way to the door before he heard a voice. His own, surprisingly enough.

“Thank you, Guinevere.”

She glanced back. The morning light streaming through the room gilded her dark profile. For a moment, he thought her the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.

“Would you like your breakfast now?”

He offered a wan smile. “Yes. Please.”

\-----

Arthur had no idea how she did it, but he was grateful for Gwen’s gentleness toward his father every time he saw them together. He still occasionally caught Uther wandering the castle, muttering to himself, but always when Gwen wasn’t around. When they were together, Uther was a different man, different even to the king he had been. More than once, Arthur would’ve sworn he even witnessed Uther smile at her with affection.

So when Gwen went missing, he wasn’t surprised when Uther stormed into the council meeting, fire in his eyes.

“Where is she?”

Gaius shook his head in warning, but Arthur ignored it. Uther needed to understand the seriousness of the situation.

“Morgana’s taken her. We’re readying a rescue party.”

Uther frowned. “That’s not possible. She’s stronger than Morgana ever was.”

A curious comparison, but one Arthur had no time to dissect. “Still, it’s been done.”

“What does Morgana want?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Everyone jumped when Uther slammed his fist down onto the table. “You are not king yet, Arthur! Tell me.”

With Gwen’s life at stake, they didn’t have time for these games. Against his better judgment, Arthur told him. “You.”

The announcement shattered Uther’s confidence, and his hand fell, his head twisting to the side as if he listened to something behind him. The knights and council held their breath as they waited for his response, but Arthur felt every second ticking away as another stolen from Gwen’s life.

Without another word, Uther turned on his heel and marched out the way he’d come in. All eyes shifted to Arthur.

“Watch him,” he ordered one of the sentries at the door.

The meeting resumed, as if it had never been interrupted. When they left ten minutes later, however, they found the sentry unconscious in an alcove, no sign of Uther to be found.

His horse was gone, too.

He had no time to consider his choices, to wonder what Uther had overheard. For the sake of the two people in the world who meant the most to him, he had to assume the worst.

The broken trail Uther left behind was the mark of an amateur, but it confirmed Arthur’s fears. They raced after him, spurring their mounts faster and faster, closing in on the spot Morgana had selected for the trade. He knew it was a trap. He’d always known. But the subtleties they’d settled upon to circumvent it now had to be sacrificed for expediency if he wished to save either one of them.

The screams cleaved the air before they reached the clearing. The knights scattered to battle Morgana’s guards, while Arthur plunged forward, breaking through the line of trees with his sword already drawn. Three figures created the tableau that greeted him – Morgana’s in readiness to throw something, a bloody Uther, and Gwen as she dragged Uther out of Morgana’s path.

Arthur charged. Something whistled past his ear, hurtling toward Morgana. Uther shouted something wet and incoherent, and then, a blinding light drove Arthur to a halt.

When he could see again, Morgana was gone, and Merlin and Gwen knelt over Uther’s fallen body.

“Get this off.” Gwen pulled at Uther’s shirt, searching for the source of the heavy blood flow staining it. “We have to save him.”

Leaping from his horse, Arthur joined them, but as he tried to help, Uther grabbed his wrist and tugged him down.

“Arthur…” He coughed, and blood sprayed everywhere.

“Don’t speak, Father.”

“No.” An odd light came into his hazel eyes. “Must be done.”

“What?”

The implacable grip guided his hand to where Gwen pressed fervently against the bleeding holes in his chest. He molded Arthur’s over hers and said, “Protect her. Because now you are king.”

His meaning sank in at the same time Gwen understood. Her breath caught, and her fingers tightened reflexively beneath Arthur’s. Together, they watched Uther’s eyes dim.

“He saved me,” Gwen murmured. “Morgana was taunting me about how she was going to kill all of us, and he simply charged in and swung at her.”

She didn’t understand the sacrifice, but Arthur did. Uther had proven himself Camelot’s king all the way to the end.


End file.
